Explode
by SpecialAgentZiva
Summary: It was a mask of nothing: absolute neutrality, a way to stay unattached from the case and her own team. And all the while, the screaming in her head built up, getting louder with each heartbeat, forcing more and more pressure on her until she exploded...


**A/N: Okay, this fic had a mind of its own. I started with the intention of (finally) writing a fanfic to do with a song that is so Castle-ish it's not even funny, but it decided to take a different route. Anyway, please enjoy this, alright? I don't own Castle, but I can wish.**

She blinked.

It was all it took to destroy the dam, to allow the water to break through and reign free in the form of stinging tears. They slid down her pale face, claiming all they could reach. In seconds, her eyelashes grew damp and heavy, shining with moisture. Yet the tears did not stop there; no, they carved path after path, most preferring to cut down her cheek and stream down the side of her face, though others outlined her lips, giving them an unnatural shine in the half-light.

It made no sense, really. She'd been holding it in for hours - why break down now, of all times? She could've done it before. She could've cried in the precinct (no, on second thought, she couldn't let the Captain see her that way - she would've been labeled 'unfit for work' in seconds). She could've bawled in the car on her way home (not that it was a particularly good idea; her vision would be blurred and, as a cop, she was supposed to lead by example). She could've… hell, she could've broken down at any time, and even the explanations in her head were so logical they were obviously fake.

The case - that had been the problem. The first one, anyway.

She'd always found it hard to deal with these… the cases where a child was left motherless, where she was forced to watch them fall apart. It was especially hard with those old enough to comprehend the meaning of "Mommy's in Heaven, sweetie." They'd go into shock - she could handle watching this - and then they'd scream, or they'd cry, or they'd blame her, and in the end, she'd be fighting back tears.

And, in this case, not winning.

But that wasn't all. No, it was never enough to make her watch someone go through the trauma she knew oh-so-well, was it? The boys just _had_ to crash their squad car, Castle _had_ to try and muscle his way farther into her life, the new captain _had_ to prevent her from seeing Esposito and Ryan in the hospital - and all the while, the screaming in her head built up, getting louder with each heartbeat, forcing more and more pressure on her until she exploded.

If this was an explosion, it was a quiet one, but she hated it nonetheless.

Frustration and anger still raged inside her. She could've dealt with talking to the victims family if it hadn't been for the rest of the day. In fact, she was feeling stronger than normal when she'd left that house (which was hardly strong at all, but it was progress). And then… and then Lanie had to call.

Lanie's voice had been breathless. It was obvious she was crying as the M.E. spoke. Her words were rapid, far too rapid for Beckett to make sense of, and the detective felt terrible for asking her to repeat herself. Lanie obviously hadn't appreciated it either and, though she tried her best to slow down, her words came out in quick, half-phrases - understandable this time, thank God. "They boys got in a car crash - Esposito's in the hospital - a truck hit his side of the car - Ryan's broken his arm - he'll be fine - but Javi's - Javi's in bad shape."

"Oh, my God." And she'd nearly dropped the phone just then. Beckett had had to grab onto the nearest wall, leaning on it while she sucked in deep breaths. Beside her, Castle looked concerned. He came up beside her, steadying her with an arm on the small of her back. She couldn't explain what drove her to jolt away from his touch, but that she did, feeling as though she'd been burned.

"Is… is Esposito…" Beckett bit her lip, then rerouted her sentence. "Is Esposito going to be alright, Lanie?"

A sharp intake of breath, and her heart constricted, but she allowed herself to breathe when Lanie choked out, "No promises - doctor's are still working on him - he got hit pretty bad - but I think… I think he'll be fine."

"He's a fighter."

"Yeah… look, Doc's - Doctor's coming. Gonna go - gonna go check on my Javi."

She might've been able to live through the phone call, through the terrible truth that her boys were in a hospital somewhere, both of them injured, alone, separated from those they loved (maybe her imagination was getting the better of her, but she could swear they'd be in terrible shape without the rest of the team). Really, she might've been perfectly fine if the Captain hadn't told her, point-blank, "You have a case to work. Esposito and Ryan will be fine. If I don't see you and Castle working in the next five minutes, I want both of your badges."

"But-" she'd argued, eyes blazing. She loved her boys, she did, but she was in no position to give up her badge when they should - would - had to - be fine.

"No buts, Beckett," the Captain snapped. "Badge or your boys, your choice. And I have a feeling you know which one they'd like you to pick."

Well, she'd had to give the Captain credit; the woman did know how to get to her. Angrily, she'd stormed out of the office, forcing herself to put distance between that (bitch) woman and herself. However, she wasn't far enough away to miss Castle's dangerous words, "You can't take my badge. I don't work here." And then, "They're - we're - family. You can't expect her to just let it go."

And she hadn't missed the bitch's reply. "Good bye, then, Castle. I don't want to see you around here anymore. Got that?"

Being left alone at the murder board had nearly killed her. Not that she was alone, not really, but Castle hadn't said a word, only stood behind her. He looked as though his favourite toy had been taken from him. Those famous blue eyes had been dashed with sorrow, his brow crinkled - even the winning smile was gone, replaced by the most depressing face she'd ever seen on him. And she'd wanted to hug him, right then.

But she couldn't. So she took the easy road. Without looking at him, she'd whispered, "Castle, leave."

He'd blinked, once, twice, surprised by her words. "No-"

"Castle, leave!" Her voice had raised louder than she'd meant for it to. He physically flinched at her words and shook his head slowly.

"Kate, I-"

"Just… go."

"But-"

"Go see the boys. Go home. You don't belong here."

If she'd thought the sadness on his face had been bad before, he now looked utterly crushed, and only nodded, retreating past her desk and out the door. She knew the impact of her words. Words were terrible, terrible things; she hadn't meant it the way it had come out, and yet…

Would he even come back?

That had been the last straw. She could've worked off hate for the new Captain with a few assaults of a punching bag (live or not). She could've visited the boys and cleared away her worry for them. She could've - she could've coped. But no, he had to stay, he had to make her snap at him -

Who was she kidding? It was her fault. He didn't deserve what she'd said.

After Castle had left, she'd spent the rest of the day (four hours, and then two hours overtime) staring at the murder board, getting nowhere. Her mind wasn't clear enough to go anywhere and, based on the occasional glares and huffs from the Captain, it was obvious. But she'd stayed. She'd covered up her fear, sorrow, frustration - all of it - with the cold, hard mask she'd seen on so many police officers, yet promised she'd never wear. It was a mask of nothing: absolute neutrality, a way to stay completely unattached to the case and her own team.

Hell, some officers went so far as to only talk to co-workers when they had to. But then, that was the problem with the job, wasn't it? In the end, they all ended up the same. Broken, torn, internally bleeding, and yet no one would know, for their faces were stone, their tones uncaring, words unwavering.

She'd never end up like them, she'd said, and yet… that day, what was she? Exactly the same.

Until she'd gotten home.

She'd lasted exactly ten minutes before breaking down.

So much for going to the hospital like she'd planned. Seeing Esposito would have to wait (he was fine, anyway, he _had_ to be). Comforting Lanie, hugging Ryan - all of it would have to be put off until she could put herself back together. But there was the problem: how could she?

She was lonely, wallowing in frustration, self-doubt, sorrow. No person easily picked themselves up from that condition. She'd considered calling Castle (she'd even grabbed the phone and dialled '2' on her speed dial) but couldn't bring herself to do it. He was probably pissed at her. Hell, she'd be surprised if he came back into the precinct, and it was all her damn fault.

"Castle…" she whispered to herself, a short sob breaking her sentence apart. "Castle… I'm sorry."

Of course he wouldn't hear her. Inwardly, she chided herself, and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and laying her head down. Tears still ran free, flowing down her face and cutting trails down her arms. She stayed like this for what seemed like hours, crying, replaying the events of the day in her head.

And then things changed.

He came up behind her. In the state she was in, she didn't notice until familiar arms wrapped themselves around her. At first, she froze, but then allowed herself to settle in as a familiar scent - distinctly Castle - flooded around her. She didn't even protest as he pulled her to his chest.

"Kate…" he whispered, breath ghosting over her ear. "I-I know you don't want to see me… but… you shouldn't be alone tonight."

"I'm not," she whispered back, before frowning through her tears. "How did you get in?"

"I have a key," he smiled into her hair, "and enough charm to get past the doorlady."

Kate smiled a bit, and put her hands on his before allowing her eyes to slip closed.

She was still in a terrible mood - still crying - still upset - still frustrated - still everything and more, but it wasn't so bad anymore.

She wasn't alone.

He was there, as he'd said he would _always_ be.

"Castle?" she whispered. He hummed in response. She drew a deeper breath and whispered, "Thank you," before the world faded and she was claimed by sleep.

"Always," he whispered.

"Always."


End file.
